Halfkin's Childhood
by Fey Halfkin
Summary: [Rushwater] Rare talent often is not identified. Thankfully for one growing cub there's another who shares it, and brings an understanding. The begining of 'A Moon Turn' memory. Cowritten with Asta Limmeri
1. Intro

If there could be a night where it could feel so calm and serene, it was this night. The moons shone down between the large redwood trees so gently and the air was just perfectly warm. Even the breeze seemed to caress them just right. Somehow the threat of humans and dangerous animals felt far away as the inhuman night dwellers went about. A few of them were wary of this mellowness, keeping their upswept ears constantly alert with cocked heads, but most enjoyed the moment. They'd smile more often in contentment. They're usual soft, musical voices that wouldn't be heard by any passing enemy, grew just a bit bolder.  
  
Eyes that pierced the darkness guided them both amongst the high branches of the trees and on the ground. With the large predators they claimed kinship with guarding them they went about; gathering herbs, teaching apprentices a craft, lovemaking with secretive dances along the trees, playing, and a few prowling the forest to hunt for animal prey.  
  
But this night wasn't usual. The night dwellers rarely let their guard down, or forgot to be alert, even when sleeping. Like their brothers the wolves, they were alive only because so far they'd been ready to defend themselves. And they were not always so innocent as this night would seem to make them. They too had a darker side.  
  
With bow, sword, knife and javelin they brought down prey and the wrathful humans. Their sharp teeth were for the bloody meat they thrived upon. Human child-like size was deceptive when it came to their swift speed and stamina. The wolf blood that coursed through them was mixed with the blood of the High Ones, making them unearthly beautiful to humans and full of the animal's instincts. But it made the humans loathe the night dwellers even more as superstition grew.  
  
Many generations came and went. The night dwellers had never known exactly when or why it began, this competitive war, and they no longer thought about it. It simply was. Their wolf allies became like family to them as the bond of friendship deepened. And the beasts carried them upon their backs, hunted down food with them, and helped defend against danger.  
  
The night dwellers called themselves Wolfriders.  
  
Humans, after calling them 'demons' or 'spirits' for centuries, would later give them a different name: elves. 


	2. Bird-talker's discovery

Freshtwig got his lifemate's sending. His heart skipped a beat instinctively as her mind touched his, familiar as a caress. He took a deep breath to catch her scent. Not being far from her he caught the smell of her, so sweetly mingled with the scent of the fish she caught easily. But through her sending he could feel she was lonely.  
  
"Let's get back before Bitter Root gets worried," he said over his shoulder. A brown bang fell in front of his eyes as he looked where his cub- son was mock fighting with his father's wolf-bond. For once it wasn't Freshtwig who had the tangled locks. Halfkin's dark brown hair was misted over with a shade of dust-dirt. Not to mention snagged with bits of bark and moss.  
  
As Halfkin disengaged from Mockplay's wrestling he once again wondered at how different Halfkin was from either him or Bitter Root as the cub showed throat to Mockplay with ease. The cubling even accepted Mockplay's nip on the nose. It frightened him.  
  
"I'm coming," the grinning Halfkin near shouted while climbing onto Mockplay. The brown wolf endured the rough tugging of the cub's hands on her fur with flattened ears. Once Halfkin managed to get his seat, Mockplay joined her bond, settling instep within moments. Freshtwig noticed with loving exasperation that the cub was barefoot again. He rustled Halfkin's hair in an attempt to brush off most of the dirt as they started back.  
  
"Where's your new moccasins? The ones your mother made to replace the ones you lost."  
  
"Um…"  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Still, Freshtwig was feeling at a slight loss about his son. His lean body watched below the den, at the bottom of the tree, where ten-season-old Halfkin was watching a Challenge among the wolves.  
  
"I can't understand why he - why he - he's different somehow," the words failed to explain but Bitter Root understood. She gently hugged him from behind with her head on his strong shoulder. Brown hair, a touch lighter then her son's near black, covered Freshtwig's even lighter brown hair.  
  
"He's just trying to be like you. All those stories you've told him, and others," she added with a laugh, "have wolf-bonds so strong, swift and companions. For him a hunter needs to have a wolf-bond to teach him. And he seems to know he's going to be Hunt when he grows up. Takes after you." The admission made Freshtwig relax. Maybe his cub was putting his whole heart into imitation, it couldn't possibly make him love him more or less.  
  
"You're right, beloved. But I'd like to ask Sparrow to watch him for a bit."  
  
He could feel Bitter Root tilt her head from the shifted pressure of her chin on his shoulder. The breath she breathed on his neck was breaking his concentration. Before she commented or replied he'd reached behind, twisting his torso to grab her and pull on his lap. His mischievous gold tinted brown eyes made her giggle.  
  
"Okay."  
  
The next day Freshtwig went looking for Sparrow, carrying a squirming Halfkin, who was playing at being a wolf - again. It was wonderful for the father to watch his cub enjoying himself.  
  
**Sparrow?** He open sent to the trees above because he didn't wish to disturb any birds she was watching.  
  
**You know where I am. Don't tell me that your miracle nose couldn't trace me,** Sparrow chuckled.  
  
Freshtwig smiled as he continued trying to hold his son in one place. Young Halfkin was giggling, and trying to get loose from his arms, occasionally trying to yap as wolves do.  
  
**I was just wondering if you would like to keep company to this restless one here,** Freshtwig sent again to his friend. Sparrow's head peeked out of her den. A smile flashed on her face.  
  
**I'd love to.** She was down in mere moments.  
  
"Hello, Halfkin. Would you like to play a game?"  
  
Halfkin looked at her with an expectation in his eyes. "What game?"  
  
"It's called 'Let's let mother and father have some time of their own'," she grinned. Halfkin grinned back without realizing why. Freshtwig just chuckled.  
  
"Alright, I'm gone then or otherwise Bitter Root is coming to drag me away." He tussled his son's wild thistle-like hair and disappeared to find his lifemate. His green vest and dark green pants outlined against the red wood of the trees, but blending with the other plants.  
  
"So, what have you been doing lately?" Sparrow asked from Halfkin, who was strangely standing still, clearly waiting for his cub-sitter to start the game.  
  
"I've been running with the wolves!" The young elf exclaimed, his amber eyes shining. Sparrow's bright blue eyes widened.  
  
"Really? That sounds like fun!"  
  
"It is! I'm like one of them!" Halfkin said and then he started jumping around Sparrow, yapping and occasionally howling, even getting on all fours. Sparrow smiled.  
  
"You definitely are, my young one," she said. "Hey, where are you going now?"  
  
Halfkin did not answer; he had suddenly got a new scent and was tracking that down. Sparrow followed. His trail took him through the Holt and back again. After he found his target, his nose took another scent and off he went again. Sparrow followed him patiently.  
  
After awhile her wolf-friend, Riverrunner joined their tracking game. The wolf yapped happily to Halfkin, poking him with his nose and licking the youth's cheek gently. Then he turned his attention to his elf-bond, poking her, whining slightly, trying to get her attention.  
  
**What is it, Riverrunner?** Sparrow asked, her black eyebrows forming a frown as she was struggling with the wolf-send. Riverrunner was very weak in sending and it always took her a lot of effort to get connection with him.  
  
**Hot. Swim.** Came the wolf's answer and the idea of cooling river.  
  
Sparrow smiled and looked around, wanting to ask from Halfkin if he wanted to go for a swim but the cubling was gone. Riverrunner was trotting after a faint, fresh trail from a small set of footprints racing off. Sparrow followed his tracks through the Holt. They took her straight to the river where Halfkin was already splashing.  
  
"What took you so long?" he shouted while getting ready to splash some water on his cub-sitter. Riverrunner was faster and ran to the water, clearly splashing water on Halfkin on purpose. Then his tongue lolled out as he obviously laughed a wolf-laugh. Halfkin screamed joyfully and concentrated splashing water towards Riverrunner. Sparrow took off her top and loincloth and accompanied the wolf and the cub in their frantic water war.  
  
It was a delightful night, soft and warm. The stars were twinkling, the moons shone and lit the river and made the splashed water glitter like bright metal. When the two elves and the wolf finally grew tired of splashing, they collapsed to the shore, breathing heavily and laughing aloud. Riverrunner howled a little howl of joy. Halfkin joined him in the howl. Sparrow looked at the wolf and the young elf howling together and then looking at each other in perfect understanding. She tilted her head and tried to dry her long hair, her gaze still on the happy connection.  
  
"Halfkin, how did you decide to go for a swim today?" she asked, half because of an intuition, half because of curiosity. Something hoped she was right.  
  
"Because Riverrunner asked us to," the cub answered, scratching Riverrunner behind his ears. Sparrow frowned.  
  
"How did you know that?"  
  
Halfkin stopped scratching the wolf, looking Sparrow in her round owl-like eyes.  
  
"I don't understand. Didn't you?" he asked, frowning. Sparrow shook her head.  
  
"No, I did not know. I had to concentrate very hard before I learnt that."  
  
Halfkin looked puzzled. "But he came to fetch us for a swim." His voice had fragments of certainty and uncertainty.  
  
Sparrow nodded absently, her mind racing around the subject. She felt like she was missing something, that if she would find one right question, she would have the answer. Noticing how the cub nervously shifted she said quickly, "I believe you, Halfkin."  
  
Then she continued. "Do you always know what the wolves are thinking?"  
  
Halfkin, who had dressed up very reluctantly, and was still missing his moccasins, had curled up by Riverrunner. He frowned. "Of course." He looked very puzzled. "Why?"  
  
Sparrow nodded to herself. "The rest of us elves do not know. We have to send to the wolves to find out what they are thinking." She said in a calm voice, looking Halfkin straight in the eyes, so that he could see that she meant what she said.  
  
Halfkin's eyes grew wide. He lacked the words to form the questions out of them. She saw it in the way he sucked his bottom lip in-between the attempts to say something. The sentences never were completed. The young cubling looked at her in a wordless 'tell me more'.  
  
"You are a very special elf, Halfkin. You should be proud of your ability." A comfortable silence settled as the dripping cub thought it over.  
  
Finally he managed to say, "But the others, they don't know what it is like?"  
  
Sparrow shook her head again. "But I have a pretty good idea," she grinned. Then she looked Halfkin in the eyes again. "Do you hear the birds chirping?" she said. Halfkin nodded. Sparrow continued looking in his eyes.  
  
"Above us in the tree are five sparrows who are all demanding food. In the sky above us a hawk has just caught a mouse. On a rock in the river sits a fisher bird, stalking a big fish, although I fear he will fail in catching it. The bird is young and the fish is big."  
  
"I hear only chirping," Halfkin said.  
  
Sparrow nodded. "As do the others. I am the only one who can hear what the birds think and say."  
  
A wide smile spread across Halfkin's face. "Then you are just as special as me!"  
  
"That's right, Halfkin. I'm just as special as you." Sparrow confirmed. Halfkin laughed aloud.  
  
"What all do they say?" His cub curiosity winning over any idea of his own speciality. After all, he did not consider his abilities strange, it was how he was and that was it. Sparrow smiled and chirped, looking to the tree. Sparrows flew to closer branches, chirping more loudly.  
  
"At the moment, they are warning me that I am very close to a bird-eating creature. Actually they are panicking in their worry for me." She stroked Riverrunner's fur, which cause enormous alarm in the tree.  
  
"Riverrunner? They are afraid of him?" Halfkin said in amazed voice.  
  
"Wolves eat meat, Halfkin, also birds. Of course they are afraid. They think I'm one of them. Strange big bird, who can't fly, but is still nonetheless a bird like them. They are very worried about me."  
  
Halfkin looked at the birds that were jumping nervously around, chirping from the bottom of their small lungs. His eyes were wide in fascination.  
  
"So they are not small flying pieces of meat that make a lot of sound and chitter-chatter? And they are worried of Riverrunner eating you?" Obviously impressed he laughed aloud. "I like them," he said, to his own surprise.  
  
Sparrow smiled. "If you want we could see more of them during daytime. If your parents let you stay up so late." Halfkin jumped to his feet, excited about the idea. The sparrows startled and flew away.  
  
"Let's ask Father now! He's coming."  
  
Sparrow who trusted the young elf's nose only smiled. "Then you better put on your moccasins, before he scolds us both for not wearing them."  
  
Halfkin grinned as he put his waterlogged shoes on. Within a short minute the figure of Freshtwig on his wolf-bond, Mockplay, detached from the forest background.  
  
"And how have you been managing?" Freshtwig asked as he arrived at the shore.  
  
"Fine. We've had a marvellous time," Sparrow said. Halfkin only grinned and went to greet his father. His moccasins making sounds with every step.  
  
"I can see that," Freshtwig chuckled. His gold tinted brown eyes matched his mischievous smile as he surveyed his wet son.  
  
**Really? He didn't cause any trouble?** Freshtwig sent, his narrowed eyes showing a hint of some worry when he glanced at her.  
  
**What do you mean?** Sparrow asked, her blue eyes pondering her friend. Her hands went to her hips almost as a defending stance, but her the worry in her eyes betrayed her care.  
  
Freshtwig dismounted by throwing his leg over his wolf and sliding down with casual ease. The appearance was far from whatever she'd felt in his sending. His easy grin didn't belong to a concerned parent. His sending went silent as he asked his cub what he'd been doing. Halfkin started telling about the new smells he'd tracked down, not standing still, and Freshtwig seemed to not remember Sparrow was close as he stood and listened.  
  
"...and I followed it, only me cause Riverrunner can't keep up with me and she," pointed to Sparrow, "can't follow smell like me, and then I caught..."  
  
Halfkin rambled as he played out all the parts. Sparrow listened as the young elf kept talking. A feeling grew inside her. A warm feeling, connection. She looked at her wolf, to which she had sometimes difficulties keeping connection. Riverrunner was almost jumping a bit on the spot. Her eyes turned back at Halfkin.  
  
'He is imitating Halfkin?' Then it hit her. They were telling the same story! As the story ended and the cub and the wolf started nuzzling against each other for goodbyes, Freshtwig turned to look at Sparrow. He studied her small and slender form, narrowed his eyes.  
  
**What is it, Sparrow?**  
  
Sparrow startled a bit at the sending, she had been deep in her thoughts. **I think I just realized something. I think your son is a wolf-talker.**  
  
**Wolf-talker? What do you mean?** Freshtwig sent back, avoiding looking at Halfkin so that the cub would not understand that they were talking about him.  
  
**Just what I said. Like I talk to birds, he talks to wolves. He does not need wolf-sending to know what they think.** Sparrow said, growing more and more certain of the idea. Freshtwig tilted his head, frowning a bit.  
  
**You might be right. I'll keep an eye on him to see if it's true.** Then he turned to his son.  
  
"Alright, Halfkin, I think it's time for us to go," he said.  
  
"Thank you, Sparrow." His smile thanked her more than enough, so she just returned it. As Halfkin was leaving, he suddenly turned around and darted to hug Sparrow.  
  
"Bye, Bird," he said.  
  
Sparrow smiled. "Bye, Wolf." 


	3. A Mentor

Halfkin loved walking beside his father. The quick grace of both his father and Mockplay was so fun to watch. And then Father made a grab for him, but he was much too fast for that!  
  
"Can't catch me!" Halfkin stated triumphantly. His father turned his head away as though now going to ignore him. Thinking he'd lost interest, Halfkin went to Freshtwig's side only to be drawn in a one-arm embrace. And while he squirmed his father kept walking. The firm squeeze comforted him, feeling the strength of those arms. Nothing could defeat this bigger then life elf.  
  
"You win! You win! Put me down," he exclaimed laughing. Moments passed with him hauled under Freshtwig's arm. The ground was so close yet so far. Facing backward, Halfkin only felt and heard his mother join in. Her arm slicked around from the other side as his parents walked leisurely to their den.  
  
"She's sure?" Bitter Root asked softly. Curious, Halfkin strained his ears but all his father did was lean his head next to hers. Struggling harder to twist out of his father's grip he finally got out and onto the ground. Quickly he hurried to Freshtwig's free side where he'd just escaped and looked up at both their faces.  
  
Mother looked like she was far away despite her eyes on him. He wondered what she was talking about. Looking to Father to find a clue he saw only the usual. Nothing different. Impatiently curious he tugged at his father's vest and asked in a cajoling tone, "Who's she is sure?"  
  
Mother disengaged from Father to pick him up. He didn't understand Father's quick sigh or the exchanged glances between the parents as he settled in his mother's embrace but they still hadn't answered his question.  
  
"Would you like to stay with Sparrow tomorrow?" His father asked with a wide grin instantly matched by Halfkin. Knowing his father well, the cub simply leapt out of mother's arms to hug Father.  
  
"Could I?"  
  
"Only if you ask her and Elkpacer first."  
  
"Okay!" And with that young Halfkin twisted and squirmed his way to the ground. His parents could have sworn under sending that the cub hadn't touched the ground before he was already racing off, swift as a running branch horn. And to the sudden direction change of one of the wolves, who took an interest in Halfkin's activity, and loped after him.  
  
HALF A MOON LATER  
  
An arm slipping around his chest as his lifemate snuggled closer broke Freshtwig's thoughts. He twisted his neck to look behind him. Bitter Root lay with closed eyes, her body moulded against his. Only her breathing told him she was awake as she thrummed a growl in her throat. He didn't think she could ever get more beautiful.  
  
"Gone all day again?" she asked in a murmur.  
  
Freshtwig gently turned to face her, his head propped up on his hand. Bitter Root frowned slightly before she found another place and curled against him.  
  
"Stop your thinking already," Bitter Root complained. Her eyes opened to lock with his own and then as Freshtwig simply gazed contently, she grinned and lifted her head up enough to nuzzle under the chin. As natural as parting water he slide his chin along her cheek as he lowered his upper body. They lay against each other, not thinking beyond the NOW, and gaining comfort from the other's scent and feel. The Hunt wouldn't start for awhile anyway.  
  
It seemed only moments had passed before Halfkin curled across their feet. Freshtwig felt as though nothing existed outside the den as his lifemate's hand gently played with their cub's hair. Nimble fingers removed bits of bark, a few threads from bird feathers along with a wolf fur strand. His own hand gently traced on the skin of the slight outreaching arm. Halfkin was getting a tan from spending all his time with Sparrow. 


End file.
